What’s Your Bravery Index?
A few months ago, John disappeared. Not literally, of course. He simply stopped coming to our 20-person book club. One week became two, two became a month, at last we stopped expecting him. Almost three months later, John walked back in. However, something about him was different this time. There was a calmness on his face. A kind of glow. During the coffee break, I asked him where he had been. “Bob,” he said, “I went to Nepal. Then I trekked into the Himalayas. I almost escaped death.” He laughed when he said it. “It was one of the most invigorating experiences of my life. I can't really describe it. It changed me.” I found myself thinking about John long after the meeting ended. Not about the Himalayas. About the decision. What makes an ordinary person decide to do something extraordinary? Most of us are reasonably comfortable with a predictable life. We know our routines. We know our streets, our work, people. We know roughly what tomorrow will look like. And there is nothing wrong with that. So, what happens inside us when suddenly we decide to take risks? Why does someone leave a secure job? Move across the country? Fall in love again? Tell their parents what they have never been able to say? Or why does someone climb a mountain? And why, sometimes, does someone walk away from something everyone else thought they should keep? Perhaps bravery isn't always about not being afraid, it is about deciding that something matters more than the fear. That is why bravery is difficult to measure. We tend to notice the dramatic versions. The mountain climber, firefighter, a person who jumps into the ocean. Yet there are quieter forms of courage that rarely make a story. Story of a woman who starts over at 55, or a man who apologizes first. A friend who admits, “I miss you.” Or it could be the story of a parent who finally says, “I was wrong.” The person who chooses to leave a life that looks perfectly fine from the outside because, somewhere inside, they know it isn't theirs anymore. Nobody applauds these moments, they may not even have witnesses… still, they may belong on the same scale. So I have been wondering about something I am calling The Bravery Index, for want of a better term. Not a score. Not a competition either. Just a private way of looking back at our lives and asking: How often have I chosen courage over comfort? Think about the decisions that changed the direction of your life. The decisions that frightened you, made people question you. The ones that required you to trust yourself, which looked foolish at the time but make perfect sense now. And then there are the decisions you didn't make. It could be about a conversation you postponed, or an opportunity you passed. Those belong in the story too. Because courage isn't only revealed by the risks we take, sometimes it is rather revealed by the risks we were afraid to take. It could be that, we don't take brave decisions because we suddenly become fearless. We take them because, for a brief moment, the desire to experience something, change it, protect it, or become someone else, matters more than what we’re afraid might happen. There is probably a decision in your past that, when you look back at it, makes you think: I can't believe I actually did that. Maybe it was enormous, almost invisible to everyone else. Only you know what it cost you and what it gave you. Maybe that’s the real Bravery Index. Let me know: What are some of the most courageous decisions you have taken and how did they work out for you? Until tomorrow, Bob
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